Alright, I am determined to get back into the groove of consistent posting.
I am going to assume that it will be a bit difficult, considering that I practically disappeared from blogging last month.
On top of that, most tragically, I have not been able to find the urge or compulsion to journal, even though I feel conflicted almost every day, and still find myself struggling from over-thinking.
Also, I plan on attempting to avoid contractions such as "I'm" and "Haven't" and "Wasn't", and so on.
So let me ramble on with a few thoughts before bedtime.
The thoughts that I felt were so pressing have completely deserted me at this moment...
Sometimes I marvel at the poetry of song-writers, who can loop together fragments of words to create this beautiful piece of art that conveys feeling and emotion through sound/singing.
Today Christmas officially started for me, in some strange manner.
My mother's extended family had their Christmas party today--yes, a full month before actual Christmas. Apparently it is only possible to everyone to be present if it is held early.
(A Lord Of The Rings track just popped on and is causing me to miss it terribly. Not to mention, Christmas always equates LotR in my mind, because the movies were released annually around Christmas for three years.)
ANYWAY...The Christmas get-together was okay. Simply okay. My aunt was surprisingly caustic and amusing, and at the end of the reunion while I was practically racing for the exit, a random relative (don't know who he is or his name) muttered something about hating reunions. I was surprised but pleased.
I suppose it makes me a lazy and selfish person, that I care so little for others, and make hardly any attempt to touch base with people...but I feel as though I look at the big picture...that I see these people once a year, sometimes every other year, and if I can't recall their names, what impact will I have on their life? Small talk is boring. I'm only around for the long run.
(Sir James Galway is a genius. So is Howard Shore. Oh LotR...how I miss you.)
One of the relatives there (again, don't know name or relation) reminded me very strongly of a serial killer. I think it was creepy, black leather serial killer gloves that he donned as he was leaving.
Being a bit bored at one point today, I went back and was flipping through my last journal, and found myself nostalgic for summer. I already miss the warm winds and the beach and the suntanning and the daily jogs...it's only been two weeks of cold and I already am tired of it.
Every time I post on here, I wonder two things--
Why do I post on here?
Is anyone reading this?
The Grey Havens - Howard Shore, feat. Sir James Galway; Lord of The Rings: Return of the King
Love Will Make You Beautiful - The Afters